


Rooftop

by GalaxyGhosty



Category: JackSepticEye (YouTube RPF), Markiplier (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, M/M, Swearing, punk!jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-25 14:02:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3813226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyGhosty/pseuds/GalaxyGhosty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. He found him on the roof.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For universe-is-lou on Tumblr, and also technically for another anon who also asked for a High School AU. I hope I hit the prompt well enough for you! I don't watch the Game Grumps regularly so I omitted them, I hope that's okay. 
> 
> But Punk!Jack is fun. Very fun, yes. 
> 
> Enjoy.

He found him on the roof.

Mark had gone up there to get some fresh air, having felt queasy the entire day for an unexplainable reason. Lunch had been the only time he'd been able to really breathe, since going to the bathroom certainly didn't help. Since he knew he wouldn't be able to eat in the state he was in, he hoped the clean air would keep him from wanting to dry heave for the rest of the day.

When he got to the roof, he wasn't alone. At the far end of the platform, another boy sat there, his shoulders hunched and— _shaking?_

Mark sucked in a deep breath, swallowing the vomit threatening to come up as he slowly stepped closer. The other didn't seem to hear him approaching, his entire body trembling, and then he heard a sniffle. The boy was crying. It wasn't that loud, but he was definitely crying. He felt a pang of sadness for him—why was he all alone?

“Hey...” he mumbled, leaning down next to him. “Are you okay?”

The boy whirled on him, wiping at his eyes furiously as he hissed, “Go the _fuck_ away!”

Mark tensed as he jumped back, staring at him in shock. Then he recognized him. It was Sean McLoughlin, the student from Ireland who'd come over at the start of the year. Mark had never spoken to him really, but they shared a few of the same classes. He'd always seemed so cool and in control, even when everyone called him a “freak” for the way he talked and how he dressed.

Sean was dressed the same way now, the same way that prompted the name calling. It was a punkish sort of look, now that he really thought about it, all dark jeans and dark jacket with the sleeves pushed up. A few rings adorned each finger, shining in the sunlight along with the piercings in his ears. 

Mark didn't really get why everyone hated on it. It suited him, in a weird sort of way.

But right now, in his anger, he looked terrifying.

“I'm sorry,” Mark told him in earnest, pulling himself to his feet. “I just...wanted to help.”

Sean let out a bitter laugh, rising to meet him head on. He wiped at his eyes again, scowling. “You? Want to help? Ha! You can help by fucking off.”

Mark thought that he should probably just leave him, considering that Sean obviously didn't want his help or his company. But something deep inside of him urged him to stay.

Perhaps though, it was just the nausea again.

Nevertheless, he began, “Sean--”

The boy's blue eyes flashed darkly. 

“Jack,” he corrected in a harsh tone. “Don't fucking call me Sean.”

He must really hate the name, Mark thought. Vaguely, he recalled Jack stating his preference for the nickname, somewhere at the beginning of the year during role call on the first day. He amended, “Jack. I'm sorry, I...”

“You _what?_ ” Jack spat, crossing his arms.

Mark opened his mouth to answer him, but a sudden wave of dizziness washed over him. He closed his eyes momentarily to gather himself, but when he opened them again, he lost control.

He threw up the contents of his stomach, consisting of the breakfast he'd had with Tom this morning. His vision began to dim, and the last thing he remembered was Jack swearing, and then saying, “What's wrong with you?” 

~~

When Mark opened his eyes, he squinted at the bright light. He raised a hand over his head to block it out, then realized two things: one, his glasses were missing, and two, he was in the nurse's office. He sat up and turned, expecting his glasses to be on the stand beside the bed when he saw Sean— _Jack_ —McLoughlin standing by the window. 

He stared. Jack glanced over. He looked completely fine now, not a trace of redness or puffiness around his eyes. His cheeks didn't look red either, and for all intents and purposes, he seemed like he'd never cried at all. Their eyes locked and Mark couldn't read him, especially when Jack broke their shared gaze and called over his shoulder, “He's awake.”

The nurse then came bustling in, cup of water and a pill bottle in hand. Mark recognized it as the bottle that his Mom had signed off on at the beginning of the year, allowing him to have it in case of emergency. The nurse was muttering to herself as she came over, handing him the cup first, then opened the bottle, shaking out two pills.

“Honestly, Mark,” she clucked. “You should have come here sooner if you were feeling bad. Swallow those, go on.”

She handed him the pills. He took them. She continued, “They'll help with the nausea, and keep it from coming back, hopefully. You'll be a little drowsy for the rest of the day, but you should be fine.” 

Mark nodded and tossed the pills back, taking a big gulp of water to follow. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, before he set the cup down and grabbed his glasses. 

“Take another five minutes or so just to sit here and gather yourself,” she said. “Then you can go on back to class.”

The nurse began to walk away, but stopped and said, “Also, you should thank Jack here. He carted you all the way from the roof.”

She walked out, and the two were left alone.

Mark said uneasily, “Thank you.”

Jack just stared at him for a moment, until he shrugged. “Whatever. Couldn't just leave you there to die.”

He wouldn't have died, Mark thought, but at least Jack was sort of being nice. He tried to laugh it off. “Yeah, that wouldn't have been good.”

Jack didn't respond to the laugh, and began to walk over. Mark stood up to meet him. Jack was about as tall as he was, he realized, and when he closed the distance between them, they were toe to toe, Jack's face inches from his. 

“If you tell _anyone_ about what you saw today,” he mumbled lowly. “I'll make you regret it.”

Then he turned, grabbing his bag as he went, and left the room.

Mark stared after him, and couldn't for the life of him explain his awkward curiosity for him. He made a mental note to learn more about the elusive Jack McLoughlin. 

~~

“What do you know about Jack McLoughlin?”

Wade fixed him with a look, one that gawked as if he'd grown another head. “Why do you want to know about Jack?”

Mark almost began to talk about their encounter on the roof, but remembered the Irish boy's foreboding words, and said instead, “I...saw him today, and was curious. Everyone calls him a freak. I just don't get why.”

“He's just _weird_ ,” Wade commented. “He doesn't talk to like, anyone and dresses like he's in a gang or something. It's a little off putting if you know what I mean.”

“Maybe he just likes black,” Mark tried, shrugging a bit. “And having a few piercings never hurt anyone.”

Wade rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Mark. But if you're really that curious, why don't you talk to him yourself?”

~~

Mark tapped his pencil on his desk, half-listening to the teacher drone on about an upcoming project. 

His ears perked up at the mention of _partner_. As he actually started to pay attention, he realized that they could _choose_ partners. This was surprising in two ways—one, people hardly _ever_ got to choose partners. Second of all, it was the first time they'd ever gotten _partners_ on a project. First time for everything when it came to English, it seemed.

Mark looked over his shoulder, knowing that Jack was in his class. He knew it was a risky move, but when the class started moving to pick partners, he ignored the people calling his name and went straight for the boy in question. 

He stood in front of his desk, and blue eyes gave him a poisonous glare. “What the hell do you want, Fischbach?”

So Jack _did_ know his name. Or at least his last name. Close enough. That made things a tad easier. When the teacher came around, he asked, “Mr. McLoughlin, who will your partner be?”

Before Jack could answer, Mark said, “I am, sir.”

He gave him a smile, and the teacher passed a look between the two of them before clearing his throat. “I see. Good choice, Mr. McLoughlin.”

He walked away, and if Jack looked mad before, he was _livid_ now. 

“What did you just _do_?” he snarled.

“I needed a partner,” Mark explained. “You needed a partner. A plus B equals C, I guess.”

Jack scoffed and genuinely looked like he wanted to punch him square in the face. Considering there was a teacher present in the room, he figured he was safe from that wrath...at least for now.

Mark sat down in the desk in front of him. He turned his body so he was facing him, and Jack continued to glare.

“I think that we should go ahead and get a head start,” Mark began, trying to ease the tension he could feel between them. “So, maybe come over to my place--”

“Like hell,” Jack interrupted. “No way I'm going to your house. We can go to mine.”

He looked away. “My parents don't come home until late and all my brothers and sisters are moved out. It'll be empty.”

Mark cleared his throat, then nodded slowly. Jack reached down into his bag and tore off a piece of paper. He scribbled on it with a pen, before handing it to him. 

Mark took it, and realized it was an address. Before he could really answer, Jack stood up. The bell rang, as if on cue, and he was out the door.

Too bad they hadn't established _when_ he was actually supposed to go over.

~~

Mark found Jack after school, among a sea of faces and colors and backpacks, all of which looked, for the most part, unfamiliar. He wove his way through the crowd, mumbling apologizes as people bumped into him. When he finally broke out of the pack, he tapped Jack on the shoulder. Jack turned and Mark saw he had ear buds in. He pulled one out and groaned, “You _again_? What do you want?”

Despite the rude words, he didn't sound as downright angry as he did earlier. Mark said, “You never told me when I should come.”

“Oh God,” Jack mumbled. “Come whenever. I don't care.”

He put his ear bud back in and walked away.

Mark tried not to dwell on it too much as he got home, mentally calculating when he should go over. He figured they might as well start today, considering he had a strong feeling Jack was going to make this project as difficult as possible, and he did _not_ want to be cramming at the last minute.

He walked up the stairs to his room, dropping his school bag and grabbing his laptop one instead. He powered off said laptop and put it inside, wrapping up the cords to it to put in there as well. He slung it over his shoulder and walked across the hall, knocking once on his brother's door before opening it. 

“Tom, can I borrow your car?” 

His brother looked up at him from his desk where he was working. “What for?”

“Project,” Mark answered. “Got to go to my partner's house.”

Tom grabbed his keys and tossed them to him. Mark stepped forward to catch them and said, “Thanks. I'll be home by dinner.”

“Be careful!” Tom called as Mark left to go downstairs, and out the door. 

~~

Jack's house was _huge_.

Well, Mark said huge, but in all honestly, it was just a nice sized house. It wasn't a mansion by any means, but it looked pretty spacious, at least from the outside. He remembered Jack mentioning siblings, so perhaps that's why it had so much room. No cars were in the driveway, so he pulled in.

He parked Tom's car and got out, trotting up to the door. Mark rang the doorbell once, and waited, tapping his foot.

A minute of silence passed over, and Mark rang it again. This time, he heard footsteps, or at least movement inside, and after a beat, the door opened, revealing Jack.

“Great,” Jack began sarcastically. “You're here.”

The Irish boy made gesture that Mark interpreted as _come in_. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, and when he noticed Jack wasn't wearing shoes, he slid his off.

Jack walked over to the stairs without a word to him, but he did cast a glance over his shoulder, which Mark took as an indication to follow. He did so, and two rooms down, Jack entered.

Mark came inside. The room was pretty spacious for one person, and honestly it was...more pleasant than Mark had been expecting. For some reason he'd been expecting a dark and dreary place full of skulls and creepy posters, but instead the walls were a soft shade of blue, with a few normal band posters with signatures on them. The floor was neat and orderly save for a few stray socks and shirts. His bed was messy but his desk was in pristine condition. 

Jack plopped down on his bed, fixing Mark with an unreadable look. Mark cleared his throat, and gestured to his bag. “I figured we could, you know, put together a PowerPoint for our research. Sound good?” 

“Sure,” Jack said. “You get on that. I guess I'll...”

“Research with me?” Mark suggested, and Jack shrugged.

Mark stood at the door for an awkward moment before he sat on the floor, having not been given permission or invitation to sit anywhere else. He opened his bag and pulled out his laptop, powering it on. He heard the bed creak, and Jack reached on the other side of his bed and got his own laptop.

Jack said nothing and typed away. Mark watched him before he sighed, returning his attention to his screen.

It was going to be a long, long project. 

~~

The entire time Mark was there, Jack hardly spoke to him. Occasionally, Mark asked him questions about the PowerPoint, and what he wanted, but Jack usually answered, “Do whatever.”

Before long, Mark had to leave.

“Same time tomorrow?” he said, phrased as a question, but more of a statement. If it were a question, Jack would have immediately said no, anyway.

Jack huffed. “If you have to.”

Mark, still confident, smiled at him. “Yeah. See you later, Jack.”

The Irish boy didn't respond, and Mark left.

He got home that night, and he wondered if he'd made the right decision in partnering with Jack, and why he'd partnered with him to begin with. 

~~

This not-talking, back and forth sort of interaction went on for the next week. Every time Mark attempted to make conversation, Jack would either ignore him or give a small grunt in answer.

But at least he wasn't cussing or swearing at him constantly. It was definitely improvement. At least Jack could tolerate him. Still, in the back of his mind, Mark wondered if that was only because he was afraid Mark would tell his secret about crying. 

Not that Mark ever would for any reason. Why Jack had cried that day was his business and his business alone. Though, Mark couldn't help but be curious about it. But he never asked and Jack never offered the information.

The project moved along slowly but surely, however one day Mark fell ill. He managed to make it through school but decided to forgo Jack's house. He had no way to contact him and hoped that Jack would just be grateful that he wasn't there. 

But when he came back the next day, Jack actually came to him. During school. 

“You didn't come over yesterday,” he said quietly, but not angrily. It wasn't a question, but it was a statement. Curiosity.

“Oh,” Mark replied. “Yeah. I, um, got sick. I didn't have a way to tell you, so I just...”

Jack huffed, annoyed, but he didn't say much else. They stood awkwardly for a moment before Jack said, “Gimme your phone.”

Mark wasn't sure he trusted him with it, but the look in the boy's eyes made him hand it over anyway. Jack tapped on the screen for a few moments and thrust it back to him.

“Next time,” he said lightly. “Text me. So I don't wait around for your ass.”

He stormed off, and Mark read the new contact, _Jack McLoughlin_ in his phone. 

~~

“Why did you partner with me?” Jack asked, one day out of the blue.

Mark was adding the finishing touches onto the presentation, the project coming to a close. It had been a stressful two weeks, Mark constantly paranoid Jack was going to say or do something to either ruin the project or stop its flow. But when Jack asked that question, he looked up.

The Irish boy was looking right at him, clearly expecting an answer. So Mark shrugged. “I just...wanted a change, I guess.”

“Change,” Jack echoed, then snorted. “Pretty big change, it seems.”

“I guess you can say I was interested,” Mark replied. “Not much else to it.”

Jack nodded. He hopped off the bed and crawled over to sit next to him, peering over his shoulder to look at the project. Mark was surprised by how close he was getting to him voluntarily. Jack whistled softly. “You're a master at presentations, Fischbach.”

“I try my best,” he said, smiling at him, and at the compliment.

Jack snorted again, but Mark could've sworn he said, _you succeed_ , under his breath. 

~~

The project soon came to a close and they presented it, Jack actually participating in said presentation. It was done and over with in the blink of an eye, and Mark figured that was the last he'd see of Jack McLoughlin. 

Somehow, he was bothered by this. It wasn't as though Jack and he had become amazing friends over the course of the project. The only thing Mark had succeeded in doing was making Jack be civil towards him, which didn't make them friends by any means. Jack still didn't acknowledge him at school, and still hardly talked to him when he was over. They never made small talk, save for the one occasion where he'd asked why he'd chosen him to be his partner. 

Mark couldn't even explain why he wanted to be near Jack so much. Perhaps he felt guilty about their first meeting. Perhaps he just wanted to help him. He wasn't sure. Jack probably still hated him, for what it was worth.

Apparently that wasn't the case though, considering that about a week after the project's end, he got a text from Jack asking, _are you busy?_

_No_ , he replied back. _Why?_

_You should come over._

Mark stared at the text incredulously for a long time, before texting back, _Okay._

Which is how he found himself back at the McLoughlin residence, awkwardly ringing the doorbell again like it was his first time being here all over again. Jack answered the door and invited him inside. 

There was something...off about Jack as Mark entered the now-familiar house, following him up the stairs. This time, when he entered the Irish boy's room, soft music was playing in the background. He couldn't quite make it out, but it was something with a lot of guitar and vocals, words blurring together given the soft volume. The floor was spotless and his bed was made.

Why was he here? 

Mark looked over at Jack who seemed to avoid his gaze at all costs. He went and sat on his bed and gestured vaguely for Mark to sit next to him. Wonderingly, Mark sat down next to him, and Jack leaned back, closing his eyes, mouthing words that Mark assumed were in tune with the music playing. 

Jack offered no explanation. Mark didn't ask. He sat there wordlessly as he listened to the soft melody. 

After a point, Jack said, “I was fucking lonely.” 

“What?” Mark asked, not understanding. 

“That day you asked me,” Jack elaborated, not opening his eyes. “Why I was crying. I was lonely as all hell. It was unbearable.”

He didn't explain further, and Mark felt his heart squeeze in his chest. 

~~

After that, they were sort of friends. Jack loomed around here and there, and talked to him on occasion. There were more instances of Mark getting invited over and Jack playing music, and in a way, it was peaceful. 

Mark couldn't help but feel like he was special, somehow, getting to listen to music with him. It felt so private and privileged in a way that he couldn't describe properly. It was just...nice.

He liked Jack, he really did. Despite his rough exterior, he could feel Jack trying to be kind to him. Despite what people said, he had a warm sort of feeling to him, one that Mark didn't get from anyone else, and it just...clicked. Like he and Jack were meant for this sort of nonverbal friendship. He hoped Jack felt the same.

One Friday afternoon, they were laying side by side on Jack's bed, a soft song by a strange little band called Sir Sly playing in the background, when Jack shifted and said, “Mark?”

Mark opened his eyes and looked over, both surprised and curious that Jack had used his first name rather than his last name. “Yeah?”

Jack's sharp blue eyes stared at him for a long while, before he shook his head. He could tell that there was something he wanted to say, but from the way that he swallowed he didn't want to say it. 

“Jack,” Mark said. “What's up?”

He sat up and sighed, and Mark followed the movement. He put a gentle hand on his shoulder, tentative. Jack tensed and he moved it away.

“Fuck it,” he heard Jack mumble, just before he turned, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and kissed him. 

At first, Mark was simply too surprised to do much of anything. But then he realized that it felt pretty nice, and moved a little closer to deepen the kiss, tilting his head slightly.

Jack pulled away and whispered, “Okay?” 

More than okay, Mark thought. He nodded, and Jack kissed him again, going right in for it as he slung a leg over and straddled his partner, grabbing the back of his head before deepening the kiss again. 

Jack had a tongue ring Mark had never noticed before. Nice. 

Just as they were getting _really_ into it (Mark could feel both of them getting _pretty_ excited), he heard the door from downstairs slam shut, and then, “Jack? Who's car is in the driveway?”

Jack pulled away and hissed softly, “Of all the fucking days to come home early...”

He quickly got off of Mark and opened the door, calling out, “My friend! We're busy! Go away, sis!” 

A pause, and then a soft laugh. “Use protection, Jack!” 

Jack groaned loudly, slamming the door and then his head against it, and Mark laughed. 

~~

He found him on the roof. 

“Knew I'd find you up here,” Mark called, and from the far end of the platform, Jack looked back at him.

He flicked him off. Mark laughed as he closed the distance between them, and Jack rolled his eyes.

“Do you just like skipping class?” Mark asked. 

“More like I wanted some alone time with you,” Jack snickered. “Did they send you to find me?”

He nodded. The Irish boy tilted his head in amusement. Mark knew that look anywhere, and said, “No, Jack. Let's go back to class.”

“You're no fun,” Jack grumbled, sliding his hands around his neck. He grinned when Mark pulled him closer by the waist. “What's ten minutes gonna hurt?” 

“You're insatiable,” Mark commented. “Ten minutes is ten minutes.”

“Whatever,” Jack smirked, leaning in as he whispered, “You love me anyway.”

He kissed him, and Mark kissed back, muttering against his lips, “I do.”


	2. Author's Note/Update

So if you guys didn't already know, this fic has a comic now! You can check it out on deviantART under the name "Rooftop (SEPTICPLIER)" by MariaMediaHere! 

She and I talked a lot about the comic and what she's going to do with it--and it diverges from this story overall. Which is probably disappointing for some of you who came from that GREATNESS to this little story. HOWEVER, we did talk briefly about me writing up what she was going to be illustrating, and I'm pretty sure that I'm going to do it. No, I'm definitely going to when I get some time, which should be coming up here soon. 

This includes writing in new characters, interactions, and scenes. It'll probably be a pretty long story, but this story will remain up if you guys like the original better. I'm just all inspired, basically. 

But yeah, stay tuned for that, and make sure you give MariaMediaHere alllllllllll the love in the world. Seriously, she's great. 

Thanks!  
~GG

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You guys are insanely supportive in this community and it really keeps me going.
> 
> Booper dooper!


End file.
